I am surrounded by runners. My husband has run in several marathons (in fact, that’s where we met each other – at the LA Marathon. But that’s another story.). Steve ran in the Long Beach 1/2 Marathon this past weekend, which was an incredible accomplishment after a double-surgery on his knee just over a year ago. A few close friends have recently finished marathons or triathlons. My brother and dad are currently training for the Honolulu Marathon.
I frequently get asked, “So when are you going to run a marathon?” My immediate answer to this question is “never.”
For the record, I am physically active. I enjoy exercise and activity, and keep a strict workout routine. A marathon, however, just isn’t something I am remotely interested in. I do realize that saying I will never do something is a strong, definitive statement. If, by some chance, I come across a compelling reason for me to run a marathon, then fine; I’m always willing to change my mind. But until that happens, here are my top reason why I don’t plan on running a marathon:
- I’m not competitive enough. My competitive drive already gets sapped in Words With Friends.
- The thought of ingesting an energy gel packet scares me.
- I don’t feel like paying a $100 fee for extended physical torture.
- After running a mere one mile, I begin to hate myself and everyone around me. Who knows what I’ll be like at mile 26.
- One word: chafing.
- I’m afraid that if some cheering bystander yells something annoyingly encouraging like, “Keep going, you’re almost there! Don’t quit!”, I’ll have the uncontrollable urge to punch him or her in the face.
- I’ve already endured the lengthy pain and agony of pushing a human out of my body. In the end of that, I won a baby. Somehow, receiving a medal and an aluminum foil space cape doesn’t seem very rewarding.
- I hate running. From what I hear, running is a key component to a successful marathon. Therefore, me being a marathoner doesn’t seem likely.